The Guy on the Right Read online

  I hand it over along with the ammo.

  “Seriously, Laney? What possible damage can we do? It’s not like you can hurt a…ouch, Jesus!” I rub the spot on my thigh that just got pinged. Her hands stay suspended in the air from where she just unleashed on me.

  “That can take a bird down, easy. Now, you have to be careful. They’re a bit aggressive when they feel threatened, kind of like wild turkeys, so when I give you the signal, pull out the light, and I’ll pop ‘em.”

  “So, this is what you do in your spare time?”

  “Shut up, Houseman, and get ready.” It’s eerily quiet, and I can hear her footfalls in the underbrush as she steps away from me.

  “Okay, I’m in position.”

  An owl sounds right behind me, and I jump back thankful she didn’t see it.

  “I don’t know much about hunting, but I can’t see this as being much of a vantage point.”

  “Don’t pansy on me, Theo. This isn’t my first time.”

  “I’m not pansying. I’m just saying. We’re in the middle of the fucking woods with a rubber slingshot. And don’t think for one second I won’t toss you in front of me at the first sign of danger, because I’m not that guy. You will die first.”

  Her laughter bubbles up from a few feet away. “Definitely not Batman.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t toss out insults. You’re the one who dragged us out here. You would deserve to go down first for putting us in this position.”

  I’m serious. But I would miss her.

  The longer we stand shrouded in the woods, the more I start to freak out. At this point, I can’t even remember the direction of the truck. Mustering the ice-breaking courage from the whiskey, I manage to steady my voice.

  “Whatever, let’s do this.”

  “Aww Teddy, you afraid?”

  “Now, I’m definitely letting you die first.”

  “Fine. Make some noise.”

  “What?”

  “Click your tongue like you’re calling a pet.”

  “That’s ludicrous.”

  “It works. Noise attracts certain animals. It’s the same with wild boars. You’ll see.”

  I swallow the hairball in my throat. “Are there any around here? Wild boars?”

  “Are we doing this or what?”

  “This is bullshit.”

  She clicks her tongue repeatedly, and I reluctantly chime in with her.

  “Good. Now clap your hands, but not like a regular clap, like a golf clap.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “It sounds like their young. Just do it.”

  “Fine.” I tap the meat of my palm on my hand.

  “Now, do them both.”

  “Why aren’t you making noises?” I argue into the void, wondering if the moon has completely fucking forgotten about Texas.

  “I’m not making noise, genius, because if it comes in my direction, I won’t get a good shot off. Come on, Theo.”

  “Fine, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Stop whining.”

  As I stand there, my senses heighten by my loss of sight as I take note of every noise. The distant snap of a branch sounds a few yards away as the damn owl announces its presence from above me. I’m positive I’ll hear that in future nightmares.

  And then I hear it, a whisper of movement, a crunch in the distance. Something is approaching.

  “Hear that?” Laney asks on an excited whisper.

  I can hear it. It’s distinct. Something is definitely out here. Another rustle in the brush a few yards away has me on high alert. “Yeah, I hear it. How do you know it’s the bird?”

  “Because the noise would scare most of the other animals. Keep clapping and clicking.” She whisper-shouts. “It’s working.”

  Mortified, I brace myself clapping like I’m watching Tiger Woods at the fucking Masters, while I furiously click my tongue.

  “Get ready with the flashlight!”

  “I can’t clap and get the flashlight,” I sputter out.

  “Right, I got it.” Her light goes up, and I’m temporarily blinded, unable to see anything in front of me.

  “I think I see it,” she proclaims excitedly.

  “I can’t see shit,” I clap frantically in a circle toward the sound of her voice.

  I’m seconds from pissing myself when I hear, “Now, Theo, now!”

  I pull my flashlight out of my pocket and scan the ground for birds, my whole-body pulsing with adrenaline.

  “I don’t see it, Laney!” I shout, scanning the ground left and right. “Get the flashlight off of me!” I scream like a tween as I frantically search the ground and jump back when I hear a loud strangled yelp from mere feet away. Stopping the flashlight at her boots, I bring it up to see Laney…holding a basset hound along with her cell phone…which is pointed directly at me.

  “Smile, Teddy! You’ve been sniped!”

  All the adrenaline leaves me in a whoosh as she starts to howl with laughter.

  I’m not amused. “You are the devil.”

  “Max,” she says through choked laughter, “meet the world’s biggest jackass, Theo.”

  I charge toward her as she backs up into the tree laughing hysterically.

  When I’ve cornered her, I can’t help but flash the light over my shoulder, which only makes her laugh harder.

  “Shut up, Laney. Did you hear that?”

  “This is too good. Now you’re paranoid.”

  “I’m not paranoid. I heard something.”

  “You heard the sound of your own fear.”

  I look down to the dog in her hands and swear he’s smiling.

  “Nice to meet you, Max, are you the undertaker when she escorts souls to hell?”

  “Good boy,” she coos, kissing Max on the top of his head. “He’s blind as a bat, but he can smell a jackass a mile away. God, am I lucky you’ve never been sniped before. No one has fallen for that since Google was invented.”

  “I didn’t exactly fall for it.”

  She lifts the phone in her hand. “I have video evidence that indicates otherwise.”

  “I’m seriously rethinking this friendship.”

  She hits play on her phone, and I watch as her face turns beet red in the combined beam of our flashlights.

  “Yes! Look at that golf clap!”

  “You suck on so many levels,” I groan.

  “This is so getting uploaded right now. Hashtag the last living snipe hunter.”

  “I no longer like you, therefore goodnight.”

  “Oh, come on,” she taunts behind me as I fumble past a few trees. “You were getting a little too cocky.”

  I whirl on her, and she backs up a step wide-eyed while Max stares on at me like I am, in fact, the biggest jackass alive.

  “I think I’ve had enough adrenaline for one night.”

  “Nope, you aren’t leaving. Follow me.”

  “Follow you where? Is this where you introduce me to the brother who wears sewn skin on his face for funsies?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s upgraded to a full nude suit.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Theo, you don’t know where you are, and I drove.”

  “I’ll Uber it, then,” I say, pulling up the app. “Where are we, Satan’s lair?”

  Her laugh slowly fades into a chuckle. “You really mad?”

  I can’t help my smile as she eyes me in the light.

  “No, but payback is hell. It would do you good to remember that.”

  “I’m really worried,” she says, setting Max on his feet.

  I turn to her, shining my beam in her face. “You should be.”

  “Just shaking in my boots, buddy. Now, onto more important matters. Eggrolls. Come on, men,” she barks, leading me through the trees and into a clearing where a ranch home sits behind a brightly lit front porch. Ropes of braided macramé holding plants hang from every corner around ancient wicker-furniture.

&
nbsp; “Wait,” I turn to her with an accusing stare as she bites her lip climbing the steps.

  “We were in your front yard this whole time?!”

  The screen door slaps behind her before she finally erupts with laughter.

  “If you put ketchup on these, I’m going back to rough the woods.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she calls from where she stands at the stove, “these taste much better dipped in honey mustard.”

  “You are one strange bird.”

  “What an amazin’ choice of words.”

  “You are testing me,” I growl, which earns me a smile. “So, what is the slingshot really for? Surely not for protection.”

  “I know it’s not much, but it’s my only option. I used to carry a taser. But I had to get rid of it.”

  “Had to?”

  She pauses, before pulling some tin foil out of a drawer. “Due to a little trauma. I don’t trust myself with one, and those around me are safer for it.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Too quick to deny, you’re guilty.”

  “Nothing serious,” she wrinkles her nose, “well serious in the sense of serious. But not before it happened. It got serious, if you know what I mean.”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  “You’re just going to laugh at me.”

  “Probably, and it’s deserved, so come out with it.”

  She puts both hands on her hips and blows out a breath.

  “I accidentally tasered a cop.”

  “Nooo,” I say through a chuckle. “Not you.”

  She grins. “Shut up. I was getting out my license and registration, and I wanted to show I had a weapon, you know, for full disclosure and all.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, I must not have watched enough episodes of Cops because you’re not supposed to show, you’re supposed to tell. And well, I was so nervous, instead of giving him proof of insurance, I gave him a shitload of volts.”

  “Jesus, Laney.”

  “When he came to, he was not happy. Thank God, he was an old friend of Gran’s. I could have done some serious time for assault. I think I got away with it because he was too embarrassed to admit it happened. Whoops.”

  “Only you would call a felony a whoops.”

  “Trust me, I did not think it was funny at the time,” she says scrolling through her phone. “You aren’t going to believe this, but snipe huntin’ already has six hundred likes.”

  “I thought we only had seven hundred followers.”

  “You mean me.”

  “Fine, you.”

  “Triple that now.”

  “What!?”

  “I told you people would be drawn to it.”

  “Yeah, but it’s only been a week, right?”

  “Less than,” she says with pride.

  “Good job.” Max nudges me at the table from where he rests at my feet, and I obey running my fingers through his short fur as I survey the kitchen which looks like it peaked somewhere in the late eighties. Laney sets an ancient egg timer and places it next to salt and pepper shakers that look eerily like the dog I’m scratching. Everything in the house is outdated, much like the furniture. Crochet blankets hang over the back of every couch. The décor is what I imagine an antique shop will look like in a few more years.

  Though the house is a time warp itself, it has that cozy, lived-in feel. It’s cluttered with years of pictures. Some yellowed and worn on the edges inside the frames.

  “It’s outdated, I know,” Laney says, watching me carefully. It was Gran’s; and Momma and I moved in when she got sick the first time. I was three.”

  She reads the question in my expression of how she passed.

  “Cancer. She beat it once. She was in remission most of my life, but they caught it too late this time. She passed in February.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She swallows and nods. “We can’t bring ourselves to change anything yet.”

  I see brief sadness cross her features. “Sweet tea okay?”

  “Sure.”

  She pours us each a glass as the air grows thick with silence. I’m used to the distraction of noise. It’s a constant for me. The only sound in the room is the slide of her chair as she takes the seat across from me and the ticking of an old plastic clock.

  “It’s quiet here.”

  “Peaceful,” she corrects.

  “Where is your mom?”

  “She works nights. She’s an LPN at a nursing home here in Polk.”

  “So, you’re here alone at night?”

  “Suddenly you’re worried?”

  “I wasn’t serious out there. I would have given you a running head start.”

  “You say that now.”

  We share a grin.

  “I used to camp out there with Devin when we were kids. I miss it.”

  “Why can’t you do it now?”

  She shrugs. “I’m afraid it won’t be as magical as it was back then. Plus, she’s too busy plannin’ her weddin’.”

  I try to hide my smile and fail.

  “What?”

  “Your accent. You keep forgettin’ the G.”

  “I’m well aware my accent is thick. Some people think it’s charmin’.”

  “Like the toilet paper?”

  She shakes her head. “Ass. That little exercise did nothing for you. Seems like you could use another slice of humble pie.”

  “Good habits die hard.”

  “That’s old habits.”

  “Potato, pot-tater.”

  “Har, har.”

  With an eye roll, she rises with the sound of the timer, puts on some crochet oven mitts, and pulls the piping hot rolls from the oven. “Finally, I could eat the ass end of a dead rhino.”

  And that’s when I hang my head and lose it.

  #newbestfriends #thelastlivingsnipehunter #lookatthatgolfclap #livingourrealestlife

  Grannism—Don’t go cheap on the toilet paper, just don’t.

  Theo

  Laney’s cheerful greeting blares through my car speakers as I roll down the window for the pharmacy attendant and hand her my card.

  “Theo! It’s hotter than Satan’s anus out here! Although I’m not sure the devil himself would buy real estate in Texas.”

  “Laney, you’re on—”

  “So, you’re not going to believe this. I’m doing my own version of Ghostin’ the Whip. Mother FORKER, that’s hot! Good news is, I got like almost a thousand likes out of my misfortune.”

  “Way to make lemonade, Cox!”

  “Fuckin’ A, Houseman! This is real lif—oh SHIT!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Radiator cap, I think I just gave myself my first tattoo…on my palm.”

  A little old lady pulling up next to me looking mortified leans out of her window. “You shouldn’t let your kids talk like that.”

  I pull my rearview toward me to check my reflection. Yep, still twenty-one.

  “I’ll just pull back around,” I tell the pharmacist retrieving my card while simultaneously trying to reach my phone on the floorboard to disconnect the Bluetooth. “Is it too late to add some anti-wrinkle cream?”

  “Don’t take it too personally, she’s ninety-four,” the teller says with a grin, just as Laney lets out another string of curses.

  “Thanks for that. I feel much safer on the road now.”

  She laughs, her eyes alight with amusement as Laney’s rant echoes off the walls of the drive-thru. “Better handle that.”

  I sigh and nod just as Laney lets out more colorful words and turn the volume down. “I don’t think this is the type of woman that can be tamed.”

  “I believe it.” The blue-haired woman says a car over. I can’t help my rebuttal.

  “Yeah, I told her mother we should tie her back to the radiator. But she no longer believes in corporal punishment.”

  “What’s that?” Blue hair leans in straining to h
ear more of the offensive voice coming through my car speakers.

  “I said I’ll make sure Daddy spanks her bare ass real good when he gets home.” I give her a slow wink and drive off.

  That might’ve been wrong, but it felt so right.

  “Theo!” Laney shouts. “Are you even listenin’ to me?”

  I park under a tree and grab my phone, taking it off speaker.

  “Not much of a choice, ma’am. Me and the good folks of Rite Aid heard you loud and clear.”

  “What?!”

  “You were on speaker. I was refilling my inhaler. It’s okay. It only took me thirty minutes to get to the window.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Perfectly fine, I have nothing better to do and all the gas in the world. So, your version of Ghostin’ the Whip? I’m thinking Ole Faithful isn’t being so faithful.”

  “It’s ten degrees too hot for her to be agreeable today.”

  “You need to let go of that thing and bury it.”

  “Lookie here, sir, this baby has been alive for almost forty years and will run until the end of time as long as I can find the right parts.”

  “It’s ancient. When you fill out a form at a motel, do you put vehicle, Type: Dinosaur, Color: Rust?”

  Silence. I went too far. I’ve offended her.

  “Yes,” she says quietly.

  “What?”

  “That’s exactly what I put.”

  “You’re kiddin’,” I drawl out with a grin.

  “Nope. This is amazin’. You, good sir, could turn out to be my sentence finisher.”

  “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

  “Guess.”

  “Taco Bell.”

  “As I live and breathe!”

  “Laney, that’s just predictable at this point.”

  “Dorito. Taco. Shells.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  “You’re a true-blue hero, Houseman.”

  “No, I just have a working vehicle. You should get on my level.”

  “I can’t hear you,” she taunts dryly. “I’m chewing. See you soon.”

  #brokeandbrokedown #myversionofghostinthewhip #whylortwhy #livingmyrealestlife

  Grannism—Work hard but make hard days’ work with whiskey.

  Laney